Achilles' Arrow
by Lunabell Marauder Knyte
Summary: Everybody has to have a reason to fight, to survive during a national disaster. Clint Barton was no exception. With Harry being Clint's lover, Tony and Natasha's best friend, and pregnant...you can image the stress that was added when Loki attacked. And the dread everyone felt when in a final attempt to not lose, Loki going after a pregnant Harry. Slash/yaoi/male-male/Mpreg.
1. The Beginning

Summary: Everybody has to have a reason to fight, to survive during a national disaster. Clint Barton was no exception.

Warning(s): Slash, smut, mpreg, hurt/comfort, angst, humor, blood, violence, romance, bad pick-up lines, closet-pervert Clint, and Tony being Tony.

Title: Achilles' Arrow

* * *

.:~*~:.

Clint awoke with a sudden jolt to the sound of heaving in the bathroom.

Getting up, he rubbed his eyes before shuffling to the bathroom, standing in the doorway as he observed the person hunched over the toilet.

"You need to go to the doctors tomorrow," he said while the person, huddled on the floor, gasped for breath.

Eyes glared upwards at Clint as a pale hand clutched at the toilet seat before relaxing as the fit receded once more. "Dinner was spicy tonight; it was probably just something from that. I'm not used to food being that spicy, you know."

Clint raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "For three nights in a row? Please be reasonable and admit that you're sick."

"And for the last time, it's just the food. I'm sure of it. Look, if I still have it by the end of the week, I'll go to the doctors then since it bothers you so much, but, for now, I maintain that it's just the food."

Clint's gaze softened as he looked down at his lover before reaching down to help him up, "Harry Potter, lover and sex kitten of Clint Barton, archer extraordinaire, that is all that I ask for."

In response, Clint got a shove to the shoulder.

* * *

.:~*~:.

Some would say that Clint and Harry made for a relatively…odd couple.

One was a marksman for a government agency and the other was a stay-at-home newspaper columnist who took care of the cooking and cleaning about the house.

They had met two years ago in a bar that Clint frequented, and Harry was forced to go to by Tony Stark, billionaire playboy and friend of Harry's who claimed that he needed to get out more. At some point during the evening, Harry got separate from Tony as he was waylaid by a pretty brunette in a low-cut top, when he felt a hand grope his ass while another crept around his waist.

Harry quickly stepped away from the wandering hands before turning around, affronted. "Excuse me!" Harry exclaimed.

The stranger, who Harry would later come to intimately know as Clint, gave a smirk. "How would you and your hot ass like to be pierced by my arrow?"

Harry, thrown off by the pick-up line, let out a small noise before he found himself laughing at the absurdity of the pick-up line, "I'm afraid if you really wanted to get into my pants, you'll have to use something better than that pick-up line. It was a nice try though, Achilles."

Clint frowned, "Achilles?"

Harry- eyes glittering in mirth- nodded, "Because, like Achilles, that arrow line was your downfall."

* * *

.:~*~:.

Harry was wearing down, and Clint could feel it.

For the past few weeks, Harry had gained an extra shadow in the form of Clint, following him and hitting on him with pick-up lines that Harry had never even heard of before- not that they weren't funny all the same- and, somehow, ever since that night, Clint has managed to incorporate the Achilles reference into every single line; "Did I die? Because I was just struck by your beauty" or "You're the only arrow I'd let slip past and hit me" or "Wanna let your quiver sheath my arrow?"

Finally, after much stalking and asking, Harry threw up his arms, "Yes! I'll go out on a date with you," he exclaimed, "just so long as you stop with the terrible lines!"

And so Clint managed to land a date with the object of his affections, and then another one with more following after that. Harry thought he'd get tired of Clint and his personality, but...somewhere along the way, he began to find Clint- and the lines he never stopped using no matter what- charming.

* * *

.:~*~:.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked Clint as they headed down for training.

"Nothing," Clint replied absentmindedly. They had just been in a meeting that he paid absolutely no attention to whatsoever.

"Right, because you just agreed to double duty and more paperwork because everything is just _fine_," Natasha said with a roll of her eyes.

Clint face-palmed and sighed, "I agreed to that?"

He knew that a few people directed some things his way, but he was too busy wondering about Harry to really pay notice. He just nodded and agreed sporadically but, otherwise, did not listen. He had hoped that Natasha would have been there to make sure nothing bad happened to him.

He stopped and turned to glare at her, "Why didn't you do something?"

"I tried to get your head in the game but you just weren't home. When after the third time of helping you dodge the bullet without so much as a thank you, I decided to let you take the hit. So, what's up?" Natasha asked, but really she was saying, _"I know something's wrong. Tell me."_

Natasha had met Harry during her time in Stark Industries. He was the only one not fooled by her, managed to catch her, and help her out. But unlike other people in her life, Harry didn't look down on her, or think her incapable of anything. It was hard to describe, but for the first time in a long time, someone just understood Natasha. Somehow Harry became a very close friend of Natasha, and that was saying something.

"It's Harry…he's sick," Clint sighed, feeling dejected.

"How sick?" Clint had known her for a while so he could hear the worry others couldn't.

"It's the third night he's been unable to keep his food down. He insists it's the food itself and that he'll be fine, but...I want him to go to the doctors just to make sure. But he's very adamant about not going."

"Be more persistent," though it sounded like a suggestion to others, Clint could hear the demanding voice behind it.

"He's agreed to go by the end of the week," Clint said with a frown.

"A lot can happen between now and then," Natasha warned.

Clint sighed again and said, "I know. I'm trying Nat, but you know how he can be."

Natasha smiled a bit, "I know. But do try harder. And, if all else fails, just pull out your secret weapon."

"My secret weapon?" Clint echoed.

"Call in Stark. If there's anyone who can pester someone to do anything, it's him. And you know how he gets about Harry," Natasha said. Stark had made himself the self-proclaimed best friend of Harry and, when it came to the wizard, it was a bit daunting at how overprotective he could be.

Clint shuddered a bit. It wasn't that he outright hated Tony, because he didn't. He thought the guy was pretty cool and funny, but his interest in Harry made Clint feel very jealous. Tony had known Harry before Clint and they have their own bond, and, even though Clint knows Harry loves him and is completely faithful, he still can't help but feel the gut twisting feeling of jealousy whenever he sees how close those two are.

It'll really hit him hard in his pride if it's Tony who gets Harry to the doctor's. Then he sighed once more. He was so worried about Harry that at this point he didn't care who got Harry to the doctor so long as he goes.

"I just might. But I'll try some of my own tricks first."

* * *

.:~*~:.

Clint got Coulson to cover for him for the rest of the day, and he quickly made it made to his and Harry's home. It was odd for Clint to think he actually had a home. Being an orphan who was raised in the circus, to working with S.H.I.E.L.D., he was used to always being nomadic. Then he met Harry and everything changed. Harry wanted something stable, he never went into detail as to why, but that was mostly due to their unspoken deal of not bringing up the past.

Though sometimes he was curious, especially whenever he'd find a scar on Harry's body and wanted to know the story, he always managed to hold back. He knew full well that he'd have to share similar stories with Harry and sometimes...with what he's done...he just can't. But Harry wanted a house and he got it, and when he asked Clint to come and live with him, well...their usual erratic, kinky, steamy sex was more of a passionate, slow, chick-sex-book-romance sex instead- which was amazing! The sounds Harry made were new and added to Clint's memory.

Clint had been smiling as he walked into their home, but frowned when he heard the sounds of heaving and smelled burnt food. He quickly ran to the kitchen and turned off the stove and placed the pot in the sink before running to the bathroom to check on Harry.

He knelt down next to Harry, and made soothing motions on his back. When the heaving completely stopped Harry leaned into Clint's embrace and asked, "Why are you home early?"

Clint smirked, "I have to do this randomly every once in a while to make sure you don't have a secret lover or something like in those soap operas on tv."

Clint's chest rumbled a little bit as Harry chuckled, "You give far more sex than I know what to do with. I don't think I could handle a lover on the side."

The archer loved his banter with Harry. It was one of the reasons he loved Harry and knew Harry loved him back. Not only did he tolerate it, but he encouraged it and played along. But he wasn't in the mood for that right now. He held Harry at arms-length and inspected him with a frown.

"Last night's dinner was my idea and it was spicy. That was my bad, I know. But you cooked for yourself today...this isn't the food Harry," Clint insisted.

"I'm fine," Harry replied and moved to wash his hands and mouth.

"How many times have you thrown up while I was and wasn't here?" Clint asked.

"Clint..." Harry said as he turned to face the spy.

"No Harry! This is serious. This can turn worse! I'm taking you to the doctor's whether you like it or not!" Clint declared.

"I'm not a little kid, Clint!" Harry fought back.

"Then stop acting like one and just go to the damn doctor!" Clint yelled back.

Harry turned away from him and crossed his arms. Clint could see Harry's reflection through the mirror and he sighed. He never liked fighting with Harry over anything; especially not when he could see the brief flash of fear on Harry's face. He walked up to Harry and embraced him from behind.

"I'm worried Harry...to the point of being scared. Please..." Clint closed his eyes, "If I need to, I _will_ call Tony."

Harry turned around with wild, widened eyes, "Oh god no! I'll go...just...just with you though..."

Clint smiled and hugged Harry close to him. He mentally sighed though, "_Tony Freaking Stark is my secret weapon to get my lover to go for help..."_

* * *

.:~*~:.

Though Harry had agreed to go to the doctor's, he was very tense and fidgety as Clint led him to the waiting room and held him to his side. It was almost like a parent keeping a child in place during an annual check-up.

"Everything is going to be fine Harry. They're just going to check you, give you some meds, maybe a shot, and then we're on our way home. If you're a good boy and not complain, I'll give you a blow job when we get home, kay?" Clint asked with a huge smile on his face.

Harry just glared at him, crossed his arms, and pouted. They were in S.H.I.E.L.D's medical department. Clint didn't trust just anyone with Harry, and S.H.I.E.L.D doctors were sworn to secrecy and, more importantly were open minded and used to 'weird', something that was just what he and Harry were.

Clint was in the room as the doctors checked Harry's throat, his ears, his eyes, his reflexes, took his temperature, his blood pressure, took some of his urine, and some of his blood. While Harry tried to skip over some of the symptoms, Clint was having none of that. He spoke out when a question was asked, and added something he thought was needed.

He would admit he was a bit confused when they asked about their sex life. "Very active, but we're both clean and have no problem in that department whatsoever."

Harry blushed and tried to hide away while Clint just smiled down at him.

"What about protection? Do you use it?" the doctor asks.

"Why bother with it? Like I said, we're both clean, and it's not like he can get pregnant," Clint said with a shrug.

The doctor nodded, scratching at his chin, before continuing, "Well, we'll send the blood in for some testing to see if your ancestors could have had anything- from the lack of medical history, I can assume you wouldn't know of any gene-related diseases. Mr. Potter here is also in need of some shots he should have had as a child, but, until we get the test results back, it sounds like it's just a bad case of a stomach virus. I'll write some prescriptions for nutrients and vitamin supplements to take care of what he loses from the vomiting, but I want you to keep him on a bland food and liquid-based diet for now until we get the test results back."

Clint watched as the doctor gave Harry his shots before standing up, getting ready to leave.

"You are free to go now, Mr. Potter. We will contact you when the results come in." The doctor said, "In the meantime, here's the paperwork for the prescriptions."

* * *

.:~*~:.

Hours later, the doctor sighed as he looked through the test results one more time. They were all inconclusive and, aside from the vomiting, Mr. Potter's health was normal for his age. Looking towards the urine samples once more, the doctor sighed once again when he realized that, if this run of inconclusive testing continues, Mr. Potter would have to provide more urine.

Rubbing at his forehead, the doctor closed his eyes for a moment before opening them once more. For some reason, Mr. Barton's words kept coming back to him. The doctor-side of his senses screamed that it was an insane idea, that it was impossible, but…after experiencing spies and agents and alien gods, anything could be possible.

And, indeed, perhaps this idea wasn't nearly as mindboggling as he first thought.

Sighing for the third time that night, the doctor went back to another round of testing.

* * *

.:~*~:.

Two days later Clint and Harry walked into the waiting room to see Tony pacing back and forth.

"_Finally_! Where have you two been?" Tony demanded when he saw them.

"Uh...what are _you_ doing here, Tony?" Harry asked.

"Jarvis is programmed to tell me everything that goes on with your paper trail and electronic life. Imagine the surprise I get to know that you're sick," he looked down at some papers in his hands, "Apparently been sick for a while, and yet I get no call, no text, no email! This is the 21st century mister, we stay connected!"

"It's nothing," Harry said calmly.

"Then why are you here if it's _nothing_?! What's with all the testing," Tony exclaimed.

"I don't really have a medical background and they wanted samples," Harry answered.

Tony's face was stoic as he looked at Harry. Then he sighed, "Are you in any pain? Do you need anything? Are you sure these guys are the best?"

"No, no, and yes," Harry said with a smile, "Go. You're a busy man, I'm sure."

"No way! I'm not leaving until some dude in a white lab coat and stethoscope tells me you're okay." Tony said with his arms crossed.

Harry sighed and dragged Clint along. They all waited silently until they called Harry up. Though Clint and Harry tried to get Tony to leave, Tony forced himself into the room with them and wouldn't leave. Eventually they decided to just let him stay, and waited for the doctor. When the old man came out with a clip board in hand, all of them were quiet.

"Mr. Potter...in all my years in the medical field, never have I come across something so...baffling," The doctor began.

Harry gulped and instantly grabbed Clint's hand, who tightened his grip on it. Tony gulped loudly and they all waited for him to continue.

"What was thought to be scientifically impossible has apparently become possible..."

All three looked at the doctor, silently questioning him with their eyes. Seeing the looks, the doctor sighed.

"Congratulations...you're going to be a mommy."

* * *

TBC...

Thanks to Catzi for Beta-ing this and also co-writing it :D


	2. Just a Nightmare?

Achilles' Arrow

Chapter 2

* * *

The silence that followed the doctor's diagnosis was staggering. It was almost like the three could hear a pin drop because it seemed like the entire world was placed on mute.

Clint's hold on Harry tightened, but neither seemed to have become unfrozen. It was Tony who snapped out of it first, and it was one of those few moments in which the billionaire genius was angry.

"Do you really think this is _funny, _to mess around with my _best_ _friend's_ medical records? Some sort of _joke_?" Tony demanded.

The doctor sighed and presented Tony with the paperwork, "Believe me Mr. Stark, a lot of testing was done on the samples Mr. Potter gave us. We tested for everything we could think of and then some. But, as Sherlock Holmes said: Once you remove the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how truly improbable, must be the truth."

Tony shook his head, still disbelieving, "I don't know what sort of crack school allowed you to get your M.D., but surely they were _very_ wrong to think you a proper doctor! A ten-year old _boy_ can tell you it's impossible for a guy to get pregnant! I'm going to make sure Fury sees to your sacking personally, only because I'm going to take Harry to the best doctors' money can buy because taking care of him is _far_ more important than seeing your demise, though it's _very_ tempting!"

The doctor wasn't fazed by this, having to deal with erratic patients all the time, and remained calm. "Mr. Stark, I assure you that I would not have brought it up if it wasn't for the fact that we deal with the unusual on an almost daily basis; agents, superheroes, alien gods. We used different tests. From the latest medical instruments donated or bought by you, to the common ones you can buy at a local pharmacy. Not a single one came back negative."

"And I'm telling you-" Tony began, but Harry had finally gotten back to his senses and placed a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Tony..."

Tony made a face- it was between a frown and a pout.

He saw the shock and pain in his best friend's eyes and hated it. But he also saw the truth in them...somehow, the impossible was possible. "Harry?"

They had a bond, and they could communicate with one or fewer words. He was asking what he could do to make it right, to make it better. He'd have to be able to...somehow.

"I...I don't think either me or Clint can drive right now. Think you can give us a ride home?"

"Of course Harry. Anything for you," Tony squared his shoulders and turned back to the doctor, "Have everything faxed over to me immediately."

"Of course, Mr. Stark," the doctor replied.

The three walked out of the medical department in silence.

Tony looked warily at Harry, unsure if there was anything he could say to make it all better, but nothing came to mind. His mind was still working on wrapping itself around the idea that his _male_ best friend was actually pregnant.

They passed Clint's car in the garage, and Tony silently texted Happy to come with Pepper to pick up Clint's car for them. Tony got into the driver's seat while Clint got into the passenger seat and Harry in the back behind Tony's seat.

For the first time in his life Tony had no idea of what to say, but he could feel the silence weighing down on them. He quickly turned on the radio, but it did little to make the tension go away.

He looked in the rear view mirror and saw the fear, uneasiness, and worries in his best friend's green eyes. Harry met his eyes and tried to smile, but it was very strained. Then Harry went to look out the window instead.

Harry sighed as he leaned his head against the glass. It was a chilly New York morning, and the gray skies did nothing to brighten Harry's mood.

Pregnant.

He was pregnant.

He knew that his magic made a lot of things possible, but male pregnancy! Really? But he wouldn't deny that it was true.

He had been around Luna while she was pregnant, and he had sort-of lived with Ron and Hermione while she was pregnant. The last few weeks made much more sense if Harry added that possibility to the equation; the tiredness, the unsettled stomach, the tenderness of his skin, how certain smells made him feel sick.

Fear and uncertainty swelled up inside of him as the thoughts continued. He had no idea how to care of a child. He himself has one of the worst childhoods imaginable! If this thing inside of him made it to term, which he wasn't sure it would, would it be born normal? And what about him? Never in his time in the magical world had he ever seen or heard of male pregnancies, would he be able to make it?

What about Clint?

Oh god, Clint!

Harry dared a glance as his lover. He still hadn't uttered a single word. The blonde was rigid in his seat, his spine straight, and his hands were clenched into fist. He was looking out the window and his expression was unreadable.

Harry's stomach coiled with an odd sensation and his eyes stung with unshed tears. Clint didn't look at him...Clint was _always_ looking at him- even when he wasn't supposed to, even when he was supposed to be working, but he wasn't now. All because of this...this...parasite!

Harry thought about how hard Clint had worked to get him, and he ruined everything. It was obvious Clint wanted someone he could have as much sex as he wanted without any of the repercussions. He didn't want to be a father, which was why he wanted a male lover. Why else would someone want to be with him?

He didn't want to cry and show any more weakness in front of either of these strong men, and so he held the tears back, but he didn't want to think about his problem anymore. He just wanted everything to go back to being normal.

There was still a lot of waiting before they made it home where he would be forced to talk to Clint eventually. That coiling feeling ate at him again and he shook his head. He didn't want to think about it so he shook his head and thought about something else, something happier.

He thought about the time he first agreed to go out with Clint. Those were some of his most fond and happiest memories.

* * *

.:~*~:.

Harry smiled as he entered the library that Thursday morning.

He waved and greeted the librarian with another smile.

The woman greeted him too and commented that she was worried something bad had happened to him since it had been awhile since he stopped by. He reassured her that everything was fine, that it was just that his boss in the antique shop where he worked was retiring and sending off all the merchandise to a friend all the way to Poland, and he was busy cataloging everything as well as helping pack and selling some last minute things. Not to mention looking for a new job.

She smiled kindly at him, and wished him luck.

He nodded and went in search for the book he wanted. Hermione and Ron would be shocked to learn how much he actually read and how much he actually loved books. Especially the older ones that held that ancient parchment scent.

Normally Harry would wander around and look for something that would catch his eye, but today he had a certain book in mind. It was one he had been eyeing for a few weeks now but, with all the craziness of him helping his old boss and an influx of last minute costumers, he barely had time to finish his last book let alone look at another. But the book in particular received glowing praise from a fellow coworker when asked for his own opinions on it, and Harry finally had a free morning to come and get it.

Harry needed to use the stepladder to get the book, but he finally reached it and took a big whiff of the familiar book smell he loved so much. He began reading the cover and the back when he noticed a man coming into the aisle. He had noticed the man before while he was talking with the librarian, but, as he was looking through some self-help books, Harry hadn't pay too much attention to him. He had a book in his hand, but he placed it back on the shelf and made his way to Harry.

"Hey, I noticed you here in the library a few times now, and couldn't help but say 'hi'."

Harry was a bit nervous because the man was taller and was looming a bit over him. His instincts flared a bit at the possible danger, but he thought it was just the paranoia from the war. A part of him wanted to listen and run, but he also doesn't want to be rude to a complete stranger, so he hesitantly said 'hi' back.

The man then proceeded to drag a reluctant Harry into a small conversation, during which the guy eventually asked Harry out on a date. Harry politely apologized, and explained that he already had someone.

The guy frowned before saying that he believed Harry just needed a little more convincing because Harry didn't sound sure about his claim- though it was really just because Harry was nervous about the guy. Harry, sensing that the man wasn't going to leave him alone, apologized and says he has to leave before attempting to duck out from under the guy's arm and walk away.

The man frowned, angry that his attempts for a date had been brushed off, and reached out, grabbing Harry around the wrist tightly before he could get out of reach.

"I wasn't done talking with you," the stranger stated angrily.

Harry turned, facing the man again and, wincing, attempted to pull out of the man's grasp, causing the man to squeeze harder, and bruises to start forming. Harry gasped in pain, "E-Excuse me! I'm sorry, but I'm just _not_ interested!"

The man frowns and opened his mouth, about to speak, when he got cut off by an arm sneaking out from behind Harry to grasp and squeeze at the man's wrist tightly, almost to the point of breaking the guy's wrist, until the man finally let go of Harry.

"I believe he said he wasn't interested," a very calm voice stated from behind Harry.

Harry turned with a gasp to find Clint there, an angry look in his eyes, and his jaw set.

"C-Clint!" Harry gasped at seeing his savior.

Clint gave Harry a quick wink. "Hello, sweet cheeks," he said before turning to the guy who was harassing Harry. The guy paled at seeing the older man's bulging muscles before quickly leaving out the door.

Clint looked in the guy's direction, wanting very much to go after the punk, but Harry, needing comfort, quickly stepped into Clint's arms, burying his face into Clint's chest, close to tears. Clint decided that the guy could wait, and turned back to comfort Harry, hushing him gently and whispering soft nothings into his ear until Harry manages to calm down somewhat.

After a while, Clint held Harry at arms-length to examine his face before gently clasping and holding up Harry's wrist for examination.

Clint frowns at the bruises and swelling already coming to existence.

"We will need to ice them when we get home. Fortunately your wrist isn't broken."

Harry nodded, tears drying on his cheeks, and Clint quickly checked out Harry's book for him before guiding Harry out and to his car.

On the way he sent a quick text to some of the other agents who owed him favors. He made it clear that he wanted a piece of that bastard, but they were free to do as they wish up to that point.

Getting into the driver's seat, Clint drove Harry to his apartment instead of Harry's, and Clint guided Harry inside. After getting an ice bag for Harry's bruised and swollen wrist he began attempting to make soup for him.

Harry, having been in the living room area, began to smell something burning, and headed into the kitchen to investigate. In the kitchen, he saw Clint at the stove, a Campbell's chicken noodle soup in the pot, and one of the noodles was stuck in Clint's hair.

Harry began to giggle because the soup had exploded in Clint's face.

How he managed to do that, Harry had no idea. And Clint was glaring down at the pot of soup, as if it was the soup's fault, when he hears the giggling and turns to look at Harry.

"What were you trying to do, Clint?" Harry asked with mirth and trying to stop from giggling more.

Clint, abashed, gestured to the soup, "Trying to make soup for you."

Harry tried to contain his laughter, but it is in vain, and Harry fell into a giggling fit.

Clint pouted and asked, "Think this is funny, do you?" Before attacking Harry's sides with tickles, making Harry giggle even harder and attempt to get away.

After Clint believed Harry had been punished enough, he stops, and Harry begins to push Clint out of the kitchen.

"Go watch TV or something. I'll make some soup for us," Harry said.

Clint looked warily at Harry before frowning, "You're my guest. You shouldn't be the one cooking."

"I don't mean to offend Clint...but if you burned soup that comes in a can, and all you have to do is warm it up...I fear of what your diet consists of. Don't worry, I'm a decent enough cook. I promise you won't regret it." Harry said with a smile. A smile that Clint just couldn't resist and nodded, agreeing to let Harry cook for him.

And, thus, Clint was introduced to Harry's cooking.

When Harry opened the fridge to see what he had to work with, he was a bit surprised to see the variety of fresh produce. Something he brought up when he presented Clint with a home-cooked chicken noddle soup that tasted like heaven in the archer's mouth. Harry blushed a bit at Clint's moan when he tasted the soup.

With his eyes still closed, Clint replied, "Oh, my friend 'Tasha has someone deliver fresh ingredients every week. She knows how bad the both of us are at cooking, but does it to make sure I don't wither away. But seriously...this was made from the things in _my_ kitchen?"

Harry blushed and grinned slightly, "I said I was a decent enough cook."

"Decent? Harry...this is...like Ambrosia. It's...amazing!" Clint praised, and Harry turned a shade redder.

As they eat the soup, Clint enthusiastically moaning every once in a while, Harry silently ate his while discretely stealing glances of Clint. Shifting, Harry sat closer to Clint's side on the couch, resting his head on Clint's shoulder.

Harry, fidgety, occasionally took more peeks up at Clint's face before, after a while, he seemed to come to a decision and leaned up to press a kiss against Clint's lips, licking away some of the soup that he had on the side of his mouth.

Clint responded, kissing back, and Harry, feeling Clint respond, shifted himself to sit in Clint's lap without breaking the kiss. The kissing started turning heavy, and Harry, feeling his groin touch Clint's, whimpered softly before pressing harder, wanting more contact there.

Clint, while loving the actions, groaned before placing his hands on Harry's hips, holding him still so he couldn't continue. Looking up at Harry, Clint smiled before gently kissing the tip of Harry's nose.

"As much as I would love this with you, I don't want it as a form of payment. You and your love are worth so much more than that."

"Clint..." Harry said, at a loss.

Clint shook his head and smiled at Harry, giving him a peck on the lips, "I'm working really hard for you, Harry. And I want to have earned you, your body, and your love fair and square and on my own terms. So please, for me, let's wait."

Harry was completely surprised by Clint's tenderness. The care that he had shone Harry from this evening and now- stopping him from a decision he might regret in the morning- warmed Harry's heart. He bit his lip and took a good long look at Clint.

"Alright, I'll let you take me on our first date then," Harry replied.

"Good. You're bunking over, though. It's late and I'll rest better knowing you were safe," Clint said.

Harry frowned at this and shook his head, "You've already done so much for me today. I couldn't possibly impose on you like this. I should just go home."

"No way, besides, you made me dinner. It's the least I can do to offer you my bed," Clint said.

"Soup hardly counts as dinner, Clint. And even if I did agree to stay, and I haven't yet, I wouldn't take your bed. I'd sleep on the couch."

"My guest, my place, my rules," Clint answered as he crossed his arms and faux-glared.

"You're very stubborn, you know that?" Harry asked.

"So are you," Clint countered.

"Okay...how about we compromise?" Harry tried.

"I'm listening," Clint said.

"We share your bed. Nothing happens. We just...sleep," Harry said, though a blush made its way up his neck to his cheeks.

Clint kissed his cheek and murmured, "I'd like that."

And that night they spooned, as Clint hugged Harry protectively to his chest. He buried his nose in Harry's hair and fell asleep peacefully with the object of his affections also sleeping peacefully in his arms.

* * *

.:~*~:.

Harry was snapped out of out his reverie when Tony pulled up to their house. Tony opened the door for Harry and helped him out. Harry muttered a thanks and looked over at Clint, who was still in the car.

What had he done? He'd ruined everything he had with Clint.

He didn't remember it being so cold, but then again it really wasn't. He couldn't really feel right now. He was numb...or in the process of numbing. He absentmindedly allowed Tony to lead him inside, and subconsciously heard as the other car door opened and closed and Clint's footsteps behind them.

Harry sat on the couch with his hands folded on his lap, refusing to look up. He did though, when Tony came up to him and gave him a glass of water. He couldn't say anything this time, so he just nodded in thanks, and Tony gave him a tentative smile that wasn't really working.

Tony hated being in a position like this.

He wasn't used to being powerless or unable to do anything, and yet, that was what he was right now. He couldn't completely fix this for Harry and, as much as he hated it, he had to let Harry and Clint deal with things first. The billionaire looked up at the archer who had finally entered the house, and he cleared his throat.

"Uh...Happy will drop off your car in a while. If you need anything, I'm on speed dial and I'll be here in a flash. Uh...I'll be back to check on you guys later..." Tony said awkwardly before heading out.

He was about to open his car when Clint ran out to him. "Uh...can...can I come with you?"

Tony furrowed his brow, "I think you and Harry should talk."

"I...I...can't. I don't know what to say...and...I'm scared here, Stark. Please," Clint was practically begging.

Tony knew about Clint's past as an orphan at the circus. He had no idea of what it meant to be a father, and the news of a male lover getting pregnant must not be easy. He sighed with sympathy and nudged his head to the side to signal him to get in. The archer gave a sigh of relief and got in.

* * *

.:~*~:.

Harry listened to the silence in the house as he prayed for Clint to come back.

He could hear the _drip, drip, drip _of the sink in the kitchen, and the_ tick, tick, tick _of the clock on the wall. But the rest of the house was silent minus the few gusts of wind that impaled the house, and the silence boomed in Harry's ears as he prayed for Clint to come back through that door. To give him a chance to apologize, to promised to make it better.

He heard as Tony started his car, and the engine came to life. As the engine's rumbling got farther away, Harry realized that so did his best friend and lover.

Hot, fresh tears slid down his face before a sob broke through him and his stomach coiled horribly. Harry ran to the bathroom and emptied his stomach.

When the fit subsided, he glared at the toilet before flushing and slapping down the lid loudly. He went to rinse his mouth, and caught eyes with his own reflection. Harry hated what he saw. He was pale, scrawny, thin and...and...and infected! That's what he was! He was infected with a horrible parasite!

"This c-can't be real," Harry clutched both side of his head and shook it back and forth.

More tears making their way down his cheeks. Then his eyes widened and he looked into his reflection, shocked. That was it...this was just some horrible nightmare. If he just lied down and went to sleep, it would all be better when he woke up again. It would have all been just a nightmare.

He splashed some water on his face before going up to his room.

He went to their bedroom's connected bathroom, and searched in their medicine cabinet. Even though the war was over for a while now, the nightmares continued, so he had prescribed sleeping pills for those nights when Clint was off to work and Harry had to sleep alone.

Harry looked at the medicine in his hand. How many would he need to make this nightmare disappear? He sat on the bed and reached for the water bottle he kept nearby. He'll just take all of them, yeah, that would be enough to get him to sleep through this horrible, devastating, cruel nightmare.

Harry took all twelve of them and, with little difficulty, passed them down as he swallowed all the water he had left.

His face itched as the tears began to dry.

Harry grabbed Clint's pillow and hugged it tight to his chest as he lied down on the bed and waited for the pills to take effected; waited for Clint to come back, waited for this nightmare to be over.

* * *

.:~*~:.

As soon as Clint went to refill his glass, Tony slapped the hand away from the bottle.

He had driven them to the nearest bar he could find, which was a small pub a few blocks away. He allowed Clint to have one drink, knowing the staggering information he had been given, but wouldn't allow Clint to have another one.

"What the hell, Stark!" Clint argued.

Tony gave the bottle back to the bartender and told him to leave them alone.

"You still need to talk with Harry, and I'm not going to let that happen while you're drunk. Nothing good can come of that."

Clint sighed, but didn't protest. He knew Tony was right.

Though it was a weakness, he told the billionaire of his insecurities, "How am I supposed to care for another life? I'm an assassin! All I'm good for is ending life! Not _raising_ it!"

"You've taken care of Harry. You'll be a fine dad," Tony said.

Clint shook his head, "I've never had a family; never been in one. The closest I've had is this little chaotic thing we have with the Avengers, but that's a bunch of adults who know to not go poking around in the past. I wouldn't know the first thing! Harry will leave me for sure!"

"That's not true. Harry loves you. He wouldn't have stayed if he didn't. I wouldn't have allowed him to stay if you didn't," Tony told Clint and the archer knew that was true, but it did little to calm his stomach.

"What if-" but Tony cut him off.

"Clint, listen, I have as much of an idea on how to be a dad as you, so there's little I can tell you that will make you feel better. If there's one thing I learned it's to look at what you got and not complain about what you don't. You have us, the Avengers, you have Harry, and, in some time, you'll have a little mini-Harry to care about you, too. But you're going to have to man up. Think you can do that?" Tony asked.

Clint let out a shaky sigh but nodded. "Can I get a lift back?"

Tony nodded and they drove back to the house.

The genius was about to leave, but Clint asked if he could stay. He could wait in the living room while Clint and Harry talked in their bedroom, but he felt that both Harry and him needed a third party around to help. Tony agreed and together they entered the eerily quiet house.

"H-Harry?" Clint called out and mentally cursed himself for stuttering.

If he was this nervous, he couldn't imagine what Harry was going through. He also mentally kicked himself, too. As much as he needed that drink, and truthfully wanted some more to calm his nerves, he really shouldn't have left Harry alone like that so soon. He needed to be strong, for the both of them.

"I'm going to see if he's upstairs," Clint told Tony and the genius nodded.

"Harry?" Clint called out again. When he made it to their room he saw Harry on their bed, asleep.

The blonde sighed, "Too much today, huh babe?" he dipped the bed with his weight as he sat down. Even though he would like to postpone this conversation for a while and let Harry rest some more, he really needed to talk with Harry. "Harry, love? We need to talk. Please...wake up."

Clint shook Harry's shoulder a bit in the hopes of waking him, but the raven wouldn't budge. The archer frowned, and a bad feeling crept into his stomach.

"Harry?" Clint called a little louder and shook Harry a little more roughly. The movements of the bed caused something to fall and make a 'clink' noise as the object hit the floor.

With owl-like eyes Clint immediately knew what it was before he picked up the empty medicine bottle.

He knew that Harry had nightmares and would need meds to help him sleep when he was out on a job. He feared for Harry's health and kept track of them and any other medicine the brunette took. He felt his blood run cold when he realized there should have been twelve more pills in this jar. The lack of pills and Harry's motionless body did nothing to calm the archer. He screamed Harry's name before calling out Tony.

Tony barged in and his eyes immediately zeroed in on Harry's motionless body on the bed.

"What happened?" Tony demanded.

"He...he..." Clint couldn't find the words as he was still trying to wake Harry up.

"CLINT!" Tony yelled.

"Pills. Sleeping pills. All of them!" was all Clint managed to say as he clutched Harry to his chest and cried into his hair.

"Damn it! Clint, snap out of it and get Harry in the car. We've got to take him to the hospital. We weren't gone too long. He's going to be fine," Tony commanded.

Clint just nodded and picked Harry up while Tony called the hospital and forewarned them to be ready before sending off some text to Pepper and the other Avengers.

He exceeded his own record with how fast he got to the hospital.

This was one of the few times Clint was extremely thankful that he was friends with Tony Stark. Tony did his thing and demanded the best attention money could buy, and Harry was carried away to get his stomach pumped.

The nurses rolled Harry away quickly and the billionaire and archer followed mindlessly as far as they could until the nurses held them back. Still they watched helplessly as the gurney carrying Harry disappeared, and they waited.

They waited for the other Avengers to arrive. They waited for news of Harry condition. They waited for their Harry to wake up.

* * *

Until next time...

Thanks to Catzi for being my Beta and helping me co-write and plot this out.


	3. Interlude: The Move

**Interlude: The Move**

* * *

There was a time when you thought you wouldn't make it; when you felt the abiding urge to give up during the search for all the different horcrux.

But you knew you had to see it through to the end.

So you pushed on.

And then there was light.

That green, deadly light as it hits you for the second time in your life. You closed your eyes at the impact and fell to the ground lifeless.

Somewhere, in those seconds as you were hit, you wonder in the back of your mind _Is this the end?_ But then you realize that in order to have had that thought, you needed to be alive.

Or maybe not so much alive as lost, as you come to find when waking up in the King's Cross Station.

The choice was obvious to you then, regardless of the regret you felt as your chance for an end from the battle fades away. You always did have a sense of duty to what was right and wrong.

Death changes you, you know.

Death changes you in ways that no one else will ever discover; not even the ghosts of Hogwarts.

You feel a weight bearing down upon your shoulders and, when you finally kill, and Voldemort is totally destroyed, it's not so much as relief you feel, but a distinct sense of emptiness inside.

You are numb and unable to believe that all you've struggled and sacrificed for is finally over.

You did not celebrate with your friends, your classmates.

You killed another being, no matter that it was war, and it is something that you cannot change.

You are a killer now.

You have blood on your hands that only you can see.

You are a killer now.

But then your friends find you, holed up in Grimmauld Place, and they drag you out into society once more. They show you the renovations, the changes in government, and it seems like everyone is going around with smiles on their faces, relief in their eyes.

_How can they move on?_

You question yourself in disbelief.

_How can they move on as if nothing has happened? As if everything was just a nightmare that was finally over?_

The ministry wanted to perform ceremonies in your honor.

You refused.

The Wizengamot wanted to present you with an Order of Merlin First Class.

You refused again.

The Wizarding World wanted to form you into a religious figure similar to the likes of Merlin.

You feel sick inside, and the urge to vomit is overwhelming.

You find hope in the form of goblins; goblins who were demanding reparations for the destruction of their bank.

You give them your money.

You give them the family vaults for them to peruse, leaving for yourself only the trust fund vault. Then you give them your wand.

_Keep it,_ you say.

_Keep it in my vault. I can't stay in this world._

And so they take it.

They take your wand, hoarding it with the rest of your treasures like the dragons of old, except for your broom and cloak. The broom is the one good thing not tainted by war, and, though you broke the wand and tossed the stone, you find that you cannot discard something that was once your father's.

And, from there, you move.

You hear about New York being the City of Dreams, and so you move. You move, and you find that the city is not so much a city of dreams, but rather a city to get lost in; a city of smog and technology, of strangers bumping into strangers and nobody recognizing anybody else.

But it is because it is a city to get lost in that you stay.

You stay and hope that, by staying, maybe you'll find a place to belong; a place with no expectations or people expecting you to fulfill duties far beyond that of your age.

A place where you can simply be what you've always longed to be.

Just You.

* * *

This is a short interlude, I know, but some people asked about the move and I didn't want to take time in the actual story so these will be done. As a way to give you some back ground info you didn't get in the chapters, without interrupting the story. This was written by Catzi while I try to update this and my other stories.

Also, are there any artist on here who will like to draw for us in their spare time? Or know someone who does? Please let me know.


	4. Is This Really Happening?

Achilles Arrow

Chapter 3

* * *

Clint stood there like a statue, staring blankly in the direction that Harry was taken to. He didn't know how to feel right now. There was so much panic and hysteria, but the slight fact that they were in a hospital and that Harry was with the best doctors and had the best medicines available made him not freak out as much. However, that really did nothing to quell his fears.

Harry shouldn't be in the hospital in the first place.

Guilt made his stomach churn when he realized it was all his fault. He was a coward and only thought about his own needs and completely forgot about Harry when his lover needed him most. This was bigger on Harry because it was happening to the raven, not him! How could he be so selfish?

He took a step closer to Harry direction. He needed to see his lover, to make sure he was alright.

"Harry..." he said absentmindedly. Harry's name was the only concrete thought in his mind, guilt and fear being the only emotions in his heart. "Harry..." he called out again as he took another step.

"Clint," Tony called from behind him, but Clint didn't hear him. The archer took another step towards Harry's direction, but when he tried taking a fourth step he was held back. He turned around angrily only to look into the worried and grief stricken eyes of Tony Stark. "We can't go any further, Clint."

"But...but Harry..." Clint shook his head and tried to make Tony understand, though he couldn't grab any words to describe all that was in his mind, or what was left in it.

"He's in the most capable medical hands in the city. We have to let them do their job," Tony replied.

"He shouldn't...Harry should not be in there at all!" Clint exclaimed.

Tony nodded firmly once, "I know...we were very stupid in leaving. You don't know how much I'm beating myself up, but he'll be okay."

"How the hell do you know!" Clint demanded.

"Out of all the procedures that occur, getting your stomach pumped isn't that risky. I've had it done a few times," Tony replied.

Tony was blocking out any emotion he could and stuck with what he knew. He ran the probabilities in his head and any other statistics he could and was slightly calmed when his mind told him the danger risk to Harry considering the time they were gone were in Harry's favor, but still hated the fact that Harry had to be here just as much as Clint did.

"BUT YOU _WEREN'T_ PREGNANT!" Clint yelled and it was then that the dam broke, "Harry is pregnant...with my child...and he thinks...thought...I left and he thought..."Clint began to hyperventilate as scenarios passed through his mind of what Harry had gone through in that short time. He was coming undone and fast. "What if the baby died? Harry might not...he might not be able to cope...he'll leave me and he should! I...I failed him and and and..."

"Clint!" Tony said firmly as he grabbed the archer by the shoulders.

"Look, I know that it feels really bad right now, but you've got to get it together. I know it's bad, and Harry shouldn't be here in the first place, but the facts are this. He's here. No more moping about how it should be different. He is pregnant, but the fetus is still young, and we got here very fast. Harry needs us, you more than me. He'll need to be reassured and it's going to take a lot to convince him. You're going to have to be strong Clint. You won't be alone but you will have to get your head in the game...okay?"

Clint nodded dumbly and shrugged off Tony's hold to look back towards the direction Harry was taken. He stood there for a long moment before Tony forcibly dragged him away to the waiting room.

It took a short while before Natasha arrived with Coulson. Clint was seated but didn't look up when Natasha said their names in greeting. He rested his elbows on his knees and kept his head down. His only thoughts were on Harry and their unborn child.

Tony looked sympathetically at Clint and rose from his seat to speak with the other agents. While Tony was busy ushering them to a more secluded spot in a lone hallway to explain what was going on, Clint's mind was racing back to when he first met Harry and fell in love in an attempt to calm himself down.

* * *

.:~*~:.

He didn't know what it was that called to him at first.

Perhaps it was the stance the younger man had taken, the slightly defensive stance of hunched shoulders as Stark threw an arm around them, trying to get the green-eyed man to loosen up some. But…secretly Clint thought it was the boy's eyes; the way they seemed to silently beg, plead, for somebody- anybody- to come help fix him. The boy had had a bad past, Clint could tell.

He could tell because it seemed to be something that every runaway and orphan had; being able to recognize when another person was haunted by their past. Clint had the feeling that, if anyone were to bother analyzing him, they'd see the same thing; a man haunted by his past. But he had healed as much as he could ever heal, time spent in SHIELD proving himself had fixed him…SHIELD was good for that. But while he had been healed, it was clear that the boy before him didn't have that chance, was still suffering. He could see the spider web cracks that were invisible to the naked eye spreading and growing, threatening to swallow the boy whole.

Clint nodded to himself and swallowed the last of his beer before making his way to the boy he'd been eyeing for the past hour as he and Stark had gotten separated.

Now was his chance.

.:~*~:.

"Why are you following me? What do you want from me?"

Were the questions asked, and Clint could give no answer that would satisfy the boy named Harry.

Harry quickened his pace back to his apartment in an attempt to gain distance from the man he met in the bar, but it did little to help. Clint had longer legs due to being taller than Harry, so he had longer strides. Clint caught up to him easily and stuck his hands in the pockets of the leather jacket he was wearing.

"Making sure you get home safe," he finally murmured.

It was late at night and Stark and Crystal, the pretty brunette who had waylaid him, were still at the bar. Harry, not wanting to see his something-like-a-friend go through the Stark 'mating process' of getting laid had decided on walking back so he could finally go to bed like what he had wanted to do before being dragged off by Stark.

He hadn't anticipated that Achilles-man would actually follow him out and continue to follow him in the weeks to come.

.:~*~:.

"Clint….why _did_ you work so hard to have me all those months ago? Most men would have given up in half the time," Harry asked his lover.

They were lying in bed, Clint propped up against the headrest and Harry curled up into Clint's side, his head resting against Clint's broad shoulder.

Clint hummed in thought for a moment, brushing a kiss against Harry's thick hair, before responding.

"Because you were broken, and I wanted to fix you," Clint answered honestly.

Harry stared up at Clint, not quite sure what he meant with his answer. Clint smiled down at him gently before explaining, "It was in your eyes. You were so alone and sad, and I wanted to make you feel better."

It was the sincerity in Clint's words, and the love he could see showing in Clint's eyes for him that made Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he found that he could honestly see himself with Clint growing old together. Harry gave Clint a small smile before resting his head on his shoulder once more and falling asleep.

.:~*~:.

Clint let out a quiet sob, allowing himself to be weak for a small moment while he was alone before the others could join him once more.

_I only know about alien gods coming down from Asgard, but…if there really is a being up there…God, or whatever you call yourself these days. Please….watch over Harry and keep him safe for me._

* * *

.:~*~:.

"What the hell happened Stark?" Natasha asked. Her voice was as steady as ever, but Tony clearly heard the anger and accusation in her words.

Tony sighed and looked towards the waiting room where Clint was sitting like an empty shell, then in the vague direction where he knew Harry was undergoing the procedure. He turned back to the agents who were impatiently (though they hid it well) waiting for information.

Finally Tony decided he was as good as any source for them to learn the news from.

"Harry's overdosed on sleeping pills," he stated first.

He watched as both agents eyes widened ever so slightly. Natasha turned towards the direction of the waiting room and gave a stiff nod. Coulson straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat a bit, "Do you know what lead Mr. Potter to...take more than the needed dose?"

Tony glared a bit at Coulson at the unspoken question, "_Do you know why he tried to kill himself?"_

"Harry is _not_ suicidal." Tony said clearly.

Coulson gave his infamous tight grin and replied, "Of course not. An accident then?" he raised an eyebrow in question.

Tony straightened his own posture and took a deep breath. He looked back and forth to make sure no one else was there to overhear. "Alright, listen you two...Harry was just given some _very_ shocking news this morning. It shocked all of us. Clint...needed some air and well..."

"Tony? Tony! Oh my God, is Harry alright?!" Pepper came down the hallway and up to them. She smiled tensely at Natasha and Coulson who nodded to her. She turned to Tony and demanded, "What the hell happened?"

"Harry, as we all know is...different, remember?" he looked at all of them. Though it was something they all knew, it was never really said. Harry was a bit like Tony, a free agent who helped S.H.I.E.L.D when they were very desperate. They knew of him, his past as the wizarding world's savior, and knew how to ask, but never push. Just like with Tony and Iron Man. They all nodded and Tony continued, "Well...some of you might know that these past few days, maybe a week or two, Harry's been a bit sick...we got it check out and..."

"Just spit it out Stark," Natasha ordered.

"Harry's expecting a little mini-archer," Tony said quickly.

Though it had been quiet before, it seemed to become even more quiet.

"Um...Mr. Stark, you do realize that Mr. Potter is male, correct?" Coulson asked, but his eyes were a bit more widened, silently asking, '_Really_?'

"I know...I was just as shocked as you were and was ready to attack the doctor who gave Harry the diagnosis. But I did check some of the resultS that came back from Harry's samples. They were conclusive to the diagnosis." Tony replied.

Pepper shook her head a bit and looked at Tony with a confused face, "And you all just found out today?"

Tony nodded, "Yes."

"But...male or female, pregnancy would take much longer for there to be any difficulty. At least until the fetus is a bit more developed," Pepper said, trying to wrap her mind around all of the information.

"Harry isn't here because of the pregnancy Ms. Potts," Coulson said.

Pepper looked questioningly at all of them. Harry had been a really good friend of hers since he arrived to the U.S. and an escape from the insanity that was being Tony's assistant. She cared for him like a baby brother and to know he was in the hospital, for any reason, was gut wrenching.

Tony placed a hand on her shoulder and replied, "He overdosed on sleeping pills, Pep."

Pepper gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, "Is he...god, is he going to be okay?"

"We got him here as soon as possible and they've taken him to get his stomach pumped. He's got the best medical attention here and I've been told that it looks good." Tony replied.

Pepper seemed near tears but was fighting them off, "H-How?"

Natasha and Coulson turned back to Tony and waited for an explanation as well.

Tony sighed, "That was...very poor planning on Clint and my part. I...I left because I thought they needed to discuss things. But it was big news. Clint didn't know how to handle it, so...we went to a bar..."

Pepper slapped him then, "You went to a _bar_! You left Harry _alone_ like that and went to a _bar_?! Anthony Edward Stark you have done some pretty stupid things in the time I've known you but how the hell could you have done something _that_ stupid?"

Tony looked down in shame, "I...I don't know. I have no excuses Pepper. If anything, god forbid, happened to Harry, I would be part to blame and I accept that, I do."

Coulson was the only one who hid his disapproval of Tony and Clint's choice to leave well. Natasha and Pepper were both openly glaring, but Tony shrugged it off easily enough.

"What do you need, Mr. Stark?" Coulson asked.

"I cannot stress how important it is to keep things quiet. That's number one. Secondly, we know next to nothing about what to expect these next few months. Do your thing and find something, okay?" Tony asked and Coulson nodded.

"Keep me updated," he stated and went on his way.

They watched him go before Natasha turned to ask Tony, "How's Clint?"

Tony stared at her for a moment before he answered, "He's scared beyond all reason. It's more than just the impossible now being possible. He's going to be a father and he's scared shit-less. That was before this happened, and now...now he's just lost."

Natasha nodded and went towards the waiting room while Tony and Pepper watched her go.

Tony turned to Pepper and his gaze let her know how troubled he was, "I'm very sorry, Pepper. So, so, sorry. I know there's no excuse but that morning's revelation just...it stopped us all. But Harry should have been my first and most important priority."

Pepper sighed, "From your story it seemed like you were doing the right thing, but it just took a dark turn. It probably would have happened to anyone...but you cared and were responsible enough to get back to Harry soon enough...in time to get him here alive. That's what counts."

Tony looked again towards Harry's direction and stated, "I don't doubt Harry's physical strength...I know his body will be okay. It's his mind I'm worried about."

"Tony?" Pepper questioned.

"I hate to think Agent was right, but...I don't know what Harry was thinking. _Was_ it an accident or was it on purpose?" Tony asked.

"You don't think Harry's capable of that, do you?" Pepper asked in turn.

"I...I'd like to believe he's not, but...He's a guy; a guy in a relationship with another guy who was just told this morning that he was pregnant. I don't know much about Harry's past but I've paid careful attention to him since I've known him. I've seen how certain words make him cringe or tense. Words like 'freak' or 'weird' or 'abnormal' always caused a bigger reaction..." Tony explained.

"You think...he would do that because this makes him different?" Pepper asked.

"He's already different, Pepper. If he grew up and that difference was looked down upon...this type of difference it a whole other level of different...I'm just saying, and I don't like this at _all_, but...Agent _could_ be right." Tony replied with a grimace.

* * *

.:~*~:.

Natasha sat down next to Clint silently and didn't say a word for a long moment. She sat up straight in her seat and then crossed one leg over the other and rested her laced fingers over her knee.

"You screwed up," she stated.

"I know." Clint replied absentmindedly.

"This is all your fault. All of it. Even knocking him up," Natasha said in a monotone voiced.

Clint turned to glare at her, "Thanks...for summing that up for me."

She turned to him and gave a glare of her own, "You've face so many dangers before and attacked them head on. This time however you chose to run away."

"This is _different_!" Clint exclaimed.

"How?" Natasha asked.

"Because!" Clint cried.

"I can't understand it unless you explain it," Natasha replied calmly.

"It's _personal_, Nat! I _love_ Harry...and he's _pregnant_ with _my_ child! And I messed up and I could have lost them both. Before I could even fully understand it, let alone accept the creation of this child...and it's taken from me? I...I..." Clint tried to explain it but he was very lost, and Natasha saw that.

She sighed and placed a calming hand on his knee, "It's going to be okay."

"How can you know that?" Clint asked as he slumped into his chair.

"Because. Harry is strong. In body, will, and mind. He has to be to put up with you," Natasha replied and gave Clint a small smirk.

Clint's lips twitched ever so slightly at the jab. He felt a bit better knowing that his partner and friend was at his side and knowing that she believed in Harry's recovery.

"Potter?" a doctor in a lab coat called out.

Clint, Tony, Natasha, and Pepper all ran and huddled around the doctor and waited for news on the raven.


	5. Penny For Your Thoughts

Achilles Arrow  
Chapter Four:

* * *

They huddled around the man in white who held a clipboard with Harry's status on it in black ink.

"He's being moved to his own room, and you can visit him shortly. The contents of his stomach have been safely removed so he should make a full recovery, and be allowed to leave within a few days. He'll be asked a few questions by some of those from the psych ward first though," the doctor explained.

"What? Why?" Clint demanded defensively.

"It is procedure given the circumstances," the doctor replied.

"Circumstances!" Clint echoed.

"Mr. Potter took far over the recommended dose of pills. If he did so on purpose then it is procedure to keep him under watch," the doctor explained.

Clint was about to reply back when Natasha pulled him back and smiled disarmingly at the doctor, "When can we see Harry?"

The doctor nodded at Natasha, "Like I said, he's being moved to his own room. A nurse will come and tell you when he's set up and tell you where to find him, though I will remind you all not to linger. He's weak and needs rest. He should be awake but not too long. And..." the doctor looked mostly at Clint when he spoke next, "Remember that we don't know his mental state. If he's up to speaking, remember to keep it light and do not say anything that might set him off."

Something inside of Clint triggered and he was about ready to launch himself at the doctor before Natasha grabbed a fist full of his shirt and yanked him to the side.

"I know," was all she said and gave him a look.

He knew better than to fight against her and she already knew what he was going to do. He was, of course, going to attack the stupid man for suggestion that Clint would intentionally hurt Harry in any way or form. How dare that man also suggest that Harry was mentally unstable? This was a mistake! It had to be!

Harry wouldn't leave him right?

…Right?

* * *

.:~*~:.

It took somewhere between five to ten minutes before a nurse led them to Harry's room. The others entered the room quickly. Natasha and Pepper took the seats available while Tony stood behind Pepper's chair and watched over Harry's form- that was resting and not awake like the doctor said.

Clint stood in the doorway, finding that he couldn't take a step into the room. His sharp eyes landed on Harry immediately. The man he loved who was resting in a hospital bed looking so pale that he nearly looked...

No!

Harry wasn't _dead_, damn it! He _wasn't_! He was _recovering_.

_"He shouldn't be here in the first place,_" his inner voice told him, and Clint's gut wrenched once more when he not only agreed with the inner voice but knew the blame was all his.

And it was.

Harry needed him so bad in that moment. In that horribly confusing moment when something they all thought was impossible happened and needed someone there to help him through it. Needed his lover to be there for care and support, but where was he instead?

He was in a bar, fully intent on getting drunk beyond all understanding and reason in order to forget about the coming future that was dark and held no sure answers. Though that was a dark future that he would have to work with Harry very hard on, it was a future nonetheless, and one with Harry.

Now, because of his stupidity, he might have just thrown that future out the window. Up until now, he had been thinking about Harry merely dying on him. It wasn't until the doctor mentioned it did he begin to think why Harry was here in the first place.

He knew it was mostly on him, but still...had Harry really tried to kill himself?

Would Harry choose death over him? Would he kill their child, their little miracle, and leave rather than be alive and work things out with Clint?

"Need some fresh air?"

Clint snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Natasha who was now standing next to him. Looking into the room again, he saw that Tony had taken Natasha's seat and was watching over Harry with Pepper.

Clint's throat was dry and made it difficult to swallow in order to speak.

"I looked at the charts. He's okay. Stark's having some of S.H.I.E.L.D medical officials come and make sure the baby's okay. From his vitals, he's still deep in REM sleep and you can take a minute outside," Natasha explained.

Clint swallowed roughly again before nodding. He followed behind Natasha who easily led them to the roof without setting off any alarms. Once he was outside he took a big gulp of air and walked over to the ledge and slammed his fist down.

"I did it again..." Clint hissed out.

"It's understandable," Natasha said.

"I'm a coward, Nat," Clint deadpanned.

"Like I said, it's understandable Clint. This has never happened before. Nothing in our training or by any other means could have trained us for this...could have prepared you for this," Natasha said calmly.

"Harry's safe again but...he...he knew how strong each pill was. To take all of them..."Clint couldn't even finish his sentence.

"I know it can't be easy and you don't know his side of the story but if you can't think as Clint, then think as Hawkeye," Natasha said easily with a shrug.

"It's not that simple!" Clint argued.

"Yes it is. You're just too emotionally hung up to see clearly," Natasha replied.

Clint turned to glare at her and snapped, "Well _excuse_ me for having emotions!"

Natasha crossed her arms and sighed, "You're afraid right now. You're afraid of what the future might hold because you can't see any of it. But, like I said, that's because you're being blinded by your emotions."

"Someone _with_ emotions can tell you it's common!" Clint snapped.

Natasha rolled her eyes at the attempt of an insult, knowing that Clint didn't really mean it, he was just confused and hurting.

"Here are some things that the future does hold. It holds Harry. It holds a child..._your_ child. It holds your family and your friends. It holds everything that that little orphaned boy from the circus wanted. Doesn't it?"

Clint's throat had dried up once more as Natasha reminded him of his past and of the situation but in a new light. He sighed and nodded and looked sheepishly at her, "Sorry...for...being an overly emotional idiot."

She smirked at him and walked back inside, "You're a man, I expect nothing less."

* * *

.:~*~:.

He took a shaky breath before he entered the room, though if Natasha gave him a literal little push, neither of them said anything.

Tony and Pepper were standing, giving him empathetic and reassuring smiles. He tried to smile back at them, but didn't know if he was convincing. He may love Harry in all ways possible, and he didn't deny that Tony and Pepper loved Harry in their own way. They were the people to first befriend Harry, and Tony was the reason he even ran into Harry in that nightclub what seemed a life time ago.

Tony placed a hand on Clint's shoulder, "I'm going to take Pepper home. We'll be doing research and try to find out as much as possible. Keep us updated on his condition here, alright?"

Clint nodded and squared his shoulders, "Thanks Tony...for everything."

Tony nodded and led Pepper towards the exit while Clint took the seat closest to Harry and Natasha the one next to him and they watched over him in silence.

"What would you have done had you not made it back in time?" Natasha broke the silence with a whispered question.

Clint's hold on Harry's hand tightened a bit at the hypothetical. He turned to her and gave her a tight grin, "What? Can't you profile the answer yourself?"

Natasha shrugged, "Things have gotten complicated since the last time we've had a conversation like this. I...I really don't know the answer. I'd like to believe that the answer remains the same from last time, but...I'd be a fool to not consider your life now."

Clint looked from Natasha to Harry and sighed. He gently pushed away a strand of Harry's hair out of his eyes, "I...I don't know myself, if I'm honest. Not anymore."

"Normally I believe that was a sign of weakness," Natasha stated.

Clint scoffed, "That would be because it usually is."

"Good thing you're not usual," Natasha said.

Raising an eyebrow at her, he asked, "You don't think it'd be weakness if I followed Harry?"

"No. I would think it your loyalty and commitment and dedication to him and your feelings towards him," Natasha replied. "You're smart enough to not be fooled. Your life has made it so. You don't trust easily and for good reason. Harry has become this crucial part in your life...he's become the good in the world. If it was gone...it would be understandable if you decided to follow."

Clint held his gaze on her for the longest moment before sighing and looking back down at his lover, convinced in her understanding. As he settled into a more comfortable position, prepared to wait a while for Harry to wake up, he thought back to when they were first learning about each other.

* * *

.:~*~:.

_Quiet laughter filled the air as the couple sat across from each other in an isolated café table for two._

_The blond, Clint, smiled gently as quiet giggles escaped his object of affection's lips as he described a funny situation he and his partner Natasha had found themselves in once during a mission- a cut and censored version considering Harry was a civilian and, therefore, wasn't supposed to know the actual circumstances surrounding the situation._

"_But you managed to get back home safe and sound, right?" Harry asked- concern in his voice._

_Clint, his deep-throated chuckles fading, nodded reassuringly. "Yes, and, fortunately, without any other hitches."_

_There was a quiet moment as they finished their lunch and the waitress came to refill their drinks. As the dessert was brought out, a slice of light, lemon-cream cake with raspberries to split, Clint looked kindly over at his companion._

"_So," he began, "You know a little bit about me. What about you? What made you decide to move to America?"_

_Harry smiled lightly before answering honestly._

"_I needed…a change of scenery. My friends were a little concerned about me being out here by myself, but, for the most part, they were understanding."_

_Clint made a noise of agreement while forking himself a piece of the cake._

"_What about your parents? Were they understanding?" he asked curiously._

_Harry, in the process of getting a raspberry for himself, froze before relaxing a bit._

"_I am an orphan. Was brought in by my relatives, but...well… there are no lost feelings there."_

_Clint nodded in understanding. _

"_I know my parents would be proud of me though…when I was younger, I always imagined having a family of my own. I always thought that, should I ever have kids of my own, I'd raise them the way I'd imagine my parents would have raised me. But that was when I was younger, though….what about you? Ever had any thoughts of children for your own?" Harry asked._

'_Ever had any thoughts of children for your own?'_

_Clint had never thought he'd get asked this question; had never thought about it himself, to be honest. Heck, he never thought he'd even find somebody to spend the rest of his life with until Harry came along._

_Clint drained the last of his coffee before wiping his lips to get some time as he tried to figure out how to respond to the question._

"_I had never thought about children before, to be honest. Like you, I am an orphan. Ran from the foster family system to a circus where I stayed, performing tricks to earn my keep. I…I'm afraid I'd be a terrible father if I were to ever have kids. I wouldn't know the first thing about how to be a good parent."_

* * *

.:~*~:.

_Gods, I should never have given Harry that response,_ Clint thought, a hand gripping at the armrests.

At the time, Harry had smiled and nodded, had been understanding to Clint's fears, but…what if, in some way, what Clint had said helped encouraged Harry to take all those pills?

_No, you can't think that way. You'll drive yourself crazy,_ his mind whispered to him, and it was true. Thinking of possible what-ifs would not only _not_ help Harry, but would also be a hindrance to himself.

Clint broke himself out of his thoughts when he heard a slight groan coming from the bed, and Clint quickly looked up to find Harry's eyes flutter before opening slightly.

Harry's eyes glanced in Natasha's direction then Clint's direction, still in a bit of a daze, before asking in a vulnerable, almost child-like, voice, "Is…Is this nightmare finally over?"

Clint and Natasha glanced at each other, looks of horror showing briefly in their eyes, before turning to look down at Harry. Clint took a gulp of air before voicing his question.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

_What did he mean?_


	6. Interlude: Meeting Tony

**Interlude: Meeting Tony**

* * *

You didn't think anything of the encounter at the time.

You were late for work, and New York is always full of people coming and going, bustling to get to their destination; like ants in an ant mound.

It was only by chance that you collided into the man, coffee soaking your pants as you lay, stunned, on the ground.

The man, taller and broader than you, begins giving you an apology in a way that lets you know that he really wasn't apologetic at all, but you ignore him in favor of getting up off the ground, and you brush off the dirt and coffee stain as best as you can. It is only luck that your boss lets you keep a set of dry clothes behind the counter just in case such an incident as this ever occurred, and, as it was a busy city, things like this were bound to occur occasionally.

You cut off the man's not-apology of 'I apologize that you are so short I didn't see you' with a mumble that could have meant anything to the man before quickly heading to work, determined to not be any more late than you already were.

Though you did not know this at the time, if most people took the moment to look at the insignia on his briefcase or at the man's face, they would immediately know who he was, but you didn't and, even if you did glance at the insignia or his face, you do not keep up with technology enough to know who that man, exactly was.

All you cared about was getting to your job as soon as possible.

You never noticed the man's analyzing gaze boring into your back.

* * *

.:~*~:.

It is a few days, and your first time meeting with a therapist that your boss convinced you to see-he could recognize symptoms of a Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder when he saw them, when you next see the man.

You open the door of your apartment, leaving for work, only to see the man standing right at your doorstep with a bag of doughnuts in one hand and cups of coffee in the other.

You stand there blankly for a moment, wondering who the hell is this man and wondering if he must have mistaken this apartment door for his own or for another's.

The man takes it upon himself to push his way past you into your apartment, ignoring your attempts to get him to leave and defeating your claims of 'I've got work to go to,' by flippantly stating that he called in and cancelled your work hours for you that day, and your boss said that it was alright.

You had not had a day off since starting your job, and your boss apparently wasn't going to let you stay and work if you had come in that day.

The traitor.

The Doughnut Man made himself comfortable at the table in your tiny kitchen, and you blanch when he exclaims over the place with statements like 'so this is how the rest of the people who aren't me live,' and 'is this really your kitchen because this is smaller than my own pantry'.

Sitting hesitantly at the only other chair at the table, you watch as the man shoves a powdered doughnut and one of the cups of coffee in your direction.

'Here, I brought food, you should thank me,' he stated as if he had done you a personal service.

You stare at the bakery treat as if it was foreign, which it was considering you had never had a doughnut before, and you immediately push it back.

'I'm not hungry,' you state, and it was true.

Ever since the war, you had not eaten for the sake of eaten, merely enough so that you might live through another day. You cannot remember the last time you were ever truly hungry. Not since people died- died because of you.

The man hummed, staring into you as if analyzing you, seeing what made you tick.

'You don't get out much,' he observed, taking in your pale form.

You tell yourself the paleness is because you are British, and you make yourself believe that. But British people aren't that pale; don't have circles under their eyes due insomnia and a lack of sleep. And their clothing isn't as threadbare as yours due to a lack of interest in fashion. After all, fashion isn't quite as important when it compares to finding that next horcrux, fighting to survive.

You are a survivor, fighting to survivor in a world that doesn't truly need you anymore.

You eye the man across from you, self-conscious with his critique.

'What does it matter to you,' you want to ask, 'I, who have never interacted with you before, am nothing to you.'

And Doughnut Man seems to sense some sort of query coming from you, some sort of doubt and self-doubt from within you because he gives you a look as if asking if it weren't obvious.

Doughnut Man who has so much, but really nothing much at all.

He is surrounded by his wealth and fame and the paparazzi and celebrities and fans and 'ohmygodit'sIronMan' and he loves it all, basks in it, but is completely, utterly alone. Pepper knows him, treats him with respect and is a friend, but she is first and foremost his secretary and he, her boss. Rhodey is a friend, but he's in the military, dealt a bit with his weapons, and there has been a bit of an issue between them with Rhodey not understanding, not supporting, his decisions.

Or maybe not so much as a bit, but a lot, and the events from Afghanistan and the events afterwards are still too fresh for him to truly be as close to Rhodey as before.

But, overall, there has not been a single person who knew absolutely anything about him.

'See, I'm a genius,' he explains, explaining how he knew where your apartment was, and how he knew to be there right when you were about to leave. Apparently geniuses could do things like that- hack into files detailing who people were and where they lived. Or, at least, this genius could.

Still, you give him an unimpressed look at having your privacy invaded.

'Alright then. Who are you, what do you want?' You ask, annoyed at having your isolation breached.

Doughnut Man chuckles as if you had performed an adorable trick, like a trained dog, before answering for the first time he could ever remember.

'I am Iron Man.'

* * *

I know this is short and it's been some time since I updated Achilles Arrow and I'm so sorry. I'll work hard to get the next chapter up this coming week, promise. I was hospitalized and was placed on bed rest to recover so I wasn't allowed to be on my laptop for long moments of time.

Thank you Catzi for writing this, and please bear with me, okay? Trust me...it's going to be worth it once we get into the actual Avengers plot.


End file.
